Breaking the Stalemate
by AKAPirateQueen
Summary: The gods know they both want it, but it’s starting to seem like it will never happen. With Miroku’s help, Inuyasha and Kagome break the stalemate. Note: Over 18 only, please.


Breaking the Stalemate

_A/N:_ An even more explicit version of this story can be found on Media Miner. This one has plenty of graphic lemon action, though, so if you are under 18 please shut off your computer _now_ and go play "Way of the Ninja" or something. If you are over 18, and of the ecchi persuasion, please enjoy.

**I. I want you to want me**

No one has ever accused Inuyasha of being overly analytical. He relies on varying proportions of instinct and gut, tempered every now and then by advice from the few people whose opinion he values (not that he'd ever admit it to them): Kaede-baba, Totosai, Miroku, Sango. Myoga–once in a while that irritating flea dredges up something useful from the Inu-daddy archives. Sesshomaru, when he takes the stick out of his ass.

And Kagome. She knows a lot of things besides where to find jewel shards. She's tough and resourceful, and learned how to fit in here a hell of a lot faster than he could have adapted to downtown Tokyo. Think about it: after two months in the Sengoku Jidai, she could build a fire, spear a river fish, and grill it on a stick in less than the time it took him to reconnoiter the area. Three years later, she can catch and skin anything smaller than a shard-crazed bear, recognize forty types of medicinal herbs, and is learning from Sango the antidotes to every kind of youkai poison. To say nothing of math, foreign languages, and whatever else she studies at the insanely demanding school she attends back home.

Kagome is a smart cookie, all right, and perceptive to boot. Which is why it finally dawns on him that she is _doing it on purpose_.

Everything points that way: the breathtakingly short skirts she continues to wear, in an era when women remain modestly covered from neck to ankle. The way her scent spikes when she grips his middle with her strong, smooth, bare thighs. The care she lavishes on bandaging his wounds, massaging in fragrant salves even though she has seen, repeatedly, that he heals magically fast without them. She lowers her lashes as she works, nervous but determined, and her scent spikes again: roses and sandalwood punctuated by spicy notes of something else, something so delicious that he longs to flip her on her back and taste it.

And so, analytically disinclined though he is, Inuyasha has reached an inescapable conclusion: She's trying to drive him crazy.

He's pretty thick, so it takes longer than it would with most teenage boys (give or take a couple of hundred years) for his mental train to reach this station. Plus, he's a hanyou, which isn't a recipe for sex appeal in any era that he knows of. That said, once the suspicion takes root in his mind, he can't shake it. He watches her even more closely than usual, and everything he sees bears it out. Her heartbeat quickens when she's near him, matching the drumbeat in his own chest. She even whispers his name in her sleep – not just on that ridiculous night at her house when she followed it with "Sit!", but on a regular basis.

Most telling of all, no matter how carefully he observes her, she's watching him just as closely. Her wide, gray eyes follow him everywhere, gentle, loving, hopeful. A little mischievous, too. Innocent though she appears, he could swear he saw a smile quirking her lips when he snuck back from a solo session of jacking off by the banks of the merrily rushing stream near their camp–leading him to suspect that it hadn't been rushing quite merrily enough to hide the way he howled her name as he came. Twice. This morning.

He'd wanted her from the first moment he saw her, running towards him with her breasts heaving and that little green skirt flipped up halfway over her hips, with Mistress Centipede and half the village of Edo in hot pursuit. Of course, he'd thought she was Kikyo, and he'd hated her with a burning passion, but that didn't mean he wouldn't have screwed her until her eyes changed color if he could have gotten loose from that tree.

When he stopped to think about it, which was increasingly often, he could catalog other Great Moments of Kagome Lust: the first time he saw her bathing, nipples jutting like dusky mountain peaks in the freezing river, with old Kaede keeping guard; lying with his head in her lap after the monk-turned-spider filled him with venom, the scent of her arousal so strong that he could smell it with his human nose; finding her marinating, stark naked, in a bath of sake in the lair of the Peach Man. More recently, he'd come upon her (okay, followed her) to a pool with a small waterfall at its far end, and enjoyed the riveting sight of her pleasuring herself under the fall. She sprawled on a flat rock, naked and with her legs spread open to catch the stream of water as it fell, and he had never been so close to losing control as when she writhed suddenly, arching her back as she moaned "Please, now, now–" raw and needy, with her voice rising to a scream on that last, drawn-out "now."

That time, at least, he'd been certain she hadn't heard him gasp, "Ah…'gome!" as he pounded his straining erection in the bushes fifty feet away. She was damn near passed out on that boulder, and Naraku himself probably couldn't have gotten her attention as she slowly, slowly brought her legs together with a deep, shuddering sigh. Tears trickled down her cheeks, whether of relief or despair he had no idea, and he would have traded the jewel itself for the opportunity – or, let's face it, the balls – to kiss them away.

**II. I need you to need me**

Kagome is at the end of her rope. Once Kikyo died, and they'd made it through the pain and heartache and, all right, _drama_ of that final loss, she had truly believed that Inuyasha would turn to her. They'd been through so much together, proving their devotion to each other and their shared quest over and over again. It might only have been three years, but it felt like at least ten – and ten years is a long time to sleep within whispering distance of your beloved without even sharing a kiss. To feel his muscles work through the silky firerat jacket as you fly through the trees on his back, wind whipping your hair.

Lately she's been feeling desperate enough to lose some of her inhibitions. Masturbation, for instance. While she'd touched herself before, it was nothing like the reckless, crazy way she now creeps away at every opportunity to bring herself to orgasm. _I'm spending too much time with dog demons_, she thinks with a mirthless chuckle. _I've turned into a bitch in heat. _

She craves his touch. Not, interestingly enough, his love. Somewhere along the way, she has accepted the fact that he loves her and will protect her with his life. Now she's wondering if this means, "Guard her like a precious porcelain vase, high on a pedestal," or "knock her down and ravish her until the stripes on his cheeks glow blood-red with lust." She knows which one she wants, but since she's studied Renaissance literature and art, she also knows about the virgin-whore dichotomy. What on earth does the virgin do when she wants to become a whore?

Kagome has zero experience at seduction, and she suspects this is what it will take. The gods know, she's tried everything else. Somehow, she needs to make him see that the feelings she has for him aren't (solely) spiritual. She may be a miko, but there's such a thing as taking purity too far.

She stares into the fire as she has these thoughts, until a movement in the shadows on the other side of the clearing catches her attention. It is Miroku, settling down next to Sango as she replaits the leather strap that holds Hiraikotsu against her back. Lately he's given up on grabbing her ass and become more _respectfully_ affectionate, although he's not above copping a feel when he thinks he can get away with it. Now he strokes a flyaway piece of Sango's hair away from her temple, and she smiles up at him.

_Very nice, monk,_ Kagome thinks. _Way to give the girl what she wants._ Her gaze suddenly grows more thoughtful. _What she wants—_ Miroku, hentai that he was, certainly knew a thing or two about seduction. Did she dare ask him for help? The thought of it causes her to flush hot pink from her forehead down to the tops of her breasts.

Thump! A flash of red, and Inuyasha is crouched on his haunches in front of her, having leapt from the branches of the tree overhead. "Are you all right?" he asks. "I could smell your fear."

The flush spreads further, past her belly to the place where all the blood in her body seems to be hurrying pell-mell. She is having difficulty breathing, and so, it seems, is he. She stretches a hand out and he leans forward, as if in a dream.

"I—I'll get you some water," he stutters.

**III. I'd love you to love me**

In the end, Inuyasha is the one who goes to Miroku for advice. It is the afternoon after the water incident, and he has been mentally stabbing himself with Tetsusaiga all day. _She wanted it, definitely. And I blew it again. Asshole. Asshole! _

The monk veers off the path to relieve himself, and Inuyasha follows. Miroku finds a likely tree and pushes his robes aside, glancing up with raised eyebrows when he realizes he has company. "Inuyasha? Do you need something?"

_More than you can even imagine_, the hanyou thinks. _Okay, here goes._ "I have a question, monk." Ignoring the twisting feeling in his stomach, he continues, "How do you get girls to…uh… touch you?"

The eyebrows go even higher, and Miroku glances down at the flaccid, but still impressive, member in his hand. "Touch me?" he repeats, giving himself a final shake before tucking it back into his fundoshi. " I generally prefer to touch them first, as you may have noticed." He glances at Inuyasha, who is suddenly beet-red and clutching the hilt of his sword for dear life, and the eyebrows come crashing down. "You're not planning to hit on the village girls, are you?"

"What's the matter, can't stand the competition?" Inuyasha shoots back. "As if I'd ever be such a pervert."

"Then why—ahhh." Comprehension dawns, and the monk's frown reverses itself before widening into a shit-eating grin. "Praise Buddha, I never thought it would happen. You're finally ready to make a move on Kagome."

"Watch it, houshi! I could kill you for saying that," Inuyasha snaps, out of habit.

"Even if it's true?" Miroku was gaining confidence every minute. "I can't tell you how happy this makes me. I've lost so much money to Shippo betting on the outcome of this relationship. Betting on _you_, I might add…."

Shut up!" Inuyasha snarls and takes a menacing step forward, then realizes this isn't getting him where he wants to go, namely, into Kagome's panties. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. "So if you want to win your _bet_, give me some damn ideas, okay?"

"Okay. Let me think for a minute." The sly, teasing look is gone, and Inuyasha relaxes a little. When Miroku speaks again, his voice is light but kind. "Kagome is already in love with you. You know that, right?" Not waiting for an answer, he continues, "The only question is whether she's ready to express that love physically. That's what we're really talking about here—the physical manifestation of love."

_I thought we were talking about me getting laid_, Inuyasha thinks with a sigh. _Fucking overeducated houshi._

Miroku doesn't notice his comrade's frustrated look. He's on a roll. "Physical love can, of course, be expressed in many ways. There is the love of a parent for a child, the affection between comrades in battle, as well as the earthier desire between men and women..."

"…Which is expressed in butt rubbing. I know," Inuyasha interrupts. "Are we going anywhere with this?"

"Actually, we are." Miroku's eyes are thoughtful. "The bond you and Kagome share is deeply loving on a number of levels. Adding physical love to the equation is bound to be terrifying for both of you."

_You got that right,_ Inuyasha thinks. "I would say that it is best to proceed slowly," Miroku continues. "That's not the way I usually like to do things, but in this case you need to be very careful not to scare her. Or yourself." He adds ruefully, "I certainly know what that's like."

Inuyasha nods, recognizing that the advice makes sense. "So what do I do?"

Miroku smiles. "Just two things: First, touch her with love. And second, don't run away. Hold on, and see how she responds. Show her that you can master the fear."

The most powerful half-demon in Japan looks at his friend, ears drooping, with an expression of pure panic. "Can't I just kill something for her instead?"

The monk laughs. "Courage, Inuyasha. This quarry will be worth the chase."

**IV. I'm begging you to beg me**

When they rejoin the group, Kagome notices that Miroku is grinning from ear to ear, while Inuyasha won't meet anybody's eye. She briefly wonders what they've been up to, then returns to the question that's been torturing her all afternoon—how can she lose these people and find a quiet place to get herself off?

The answer comes when they camp for the evening, and she quickly volunteers to collect firewood. They're in a hilly, wooded region punctuated by small copses dotted with fragrant wildflowers. Slipping and scrambling in her hurry, she makes her way to a dip in the landscape far above their campsite; invisible from below, but open to the late afternoon sun and wheeling hawks above. She slides to the ground and the sun-warmed grasses enfold her like a blanket, cushioning her fall.

Without conscious prompting, her left hand moves under her blouse to tweak her aching nipples while the right pushes her skirt over her hips. The sun is hot on the tops of her thighs, and she closes her eyes, the better to imagine a strong, clawed hand on her groin as she pulls her panties to one side for easier access…

…and feels a shadow over her face. Accompanied, dear gods, by a voice that causes her to nearly faint with embarrassment.

"Ka…Kagome?" He speaks softly, as though holding himself back, and she can sense his utter confusion.

A jet of anger shoots through her, though she still lacks the guts to look at him. Stupid fucking Inuyasha, does he think he's the only one with frustrations to work off? It's not like she can even go around smacking people with that long, hard sword….

It's no use; she's busted, and the shame of it overwhelms her. Her body curls into a protective knot as tears burst from her closed eyelids. She's praying for an earthquake, a rockslide—anything, no matter how painful, to shield her from his questioning eyes.

"Kagome. It's okay." The voice is warm and soft, a rumble in his chest. Slow, tender fingers wipe her tears away before coming to rest on her temples.

Almost imperceptibly, she begins to relax. "Inu…yasha?"

------------

_Don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up…._ The words race through his mind like salmon tumbling upstream, and he hangs onto them with the last shreds of his sanity. He's faced death in a hundred ways, but can't ever remember his senses being as overloaded as this. The scent of her, hot and ripe and tantalizing, mixed with the crushed grass and sun-warmed earth…the full breasts spilling out of her lacy bra, fabric pulled awry across her chest…the graceful hand pulling her panties aside, fingers already tipped with the glistening liquid of her arousal….

_She's ready for you_, his youkai (or is it hentai?) brain whispers. _She wants you. Take her, now!_ He lets out a low moan. _No. She's embarrassed, and she's scared. She's… _"Kagome. It's okay." _Don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up…._

His heart stops as she finally opens her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

In spite of himself, he smiles. "For what? Baka."

She actually smiles back, and he feels like he's been saved. "This is so—embarrassing."

"Keh." His fingers move from her temples to her glossy, black hair, wondering at the way it springs under his touch. "Speak for yourself. This is the best thing I've seen in a long time." He says it casually, but it hangs in the air between them and her eyes widen. _Shit! Did I go too far?_ His ears perk and swivel, looking for clues.

Suddenly her arms snake around his neck, throwing him off-balance. Before he can steady himself, she pulls him down into a crushing kiss.

"Inuyasha…." She's kissing every part of him she can reach, whispering into his skin, and it's like being repeatedly hit by lightning—burning paths of pleasure trailing along his face and down his jaw line. "Inuyasha, please…don't make me wait any more."

Words fail him, but luckily, nature takes over. He growls deep in his chest, equal measures of triumph and anticipation, and feels his fangs lengthening as he captures her mouth, forcing it open so he can ravish it with his tongue. Meanwhile, his hands are roaming her body possessively, covering every inch of her with his scent as he memorizes the terrain, from her flat belly to the soft curves of her waist and even softer breasts, topped by swollen pink nipples. Here he stops, kneading them between thumb and forefinger, careful not to scratch with his claws, and she moans into his mouth as she arches her back against his hands. She is beyond beautiful, lying open and eager for his touch in the late afternoon sun, and he thinks he will go mad from the sheer, desperate pleasure of possessing her at last.

For her part, Kagome can't stop saying his name—crying it, moaning it, breathing it. She molds herself against his length, fingers fumbling as she helps him remove his clothes, and some part of her stunned brain whispers, _This is really going to happen._ Then all words are gone, and she's lost in the wonder of the body she's dreamed about for so long: smooth, golden skin punctuated by faded scars and tufts of snowy hair, ridged with muscle in all the right places. She scoots down under him to flick her tongue over his nipples, feeling his erection pressing into her stomach and wondering, briefly, how this monstrous length will fit into a space that feels tight even against her fingers. She dismisses the thought: she trusts him, everything will be fine when the time comes. After all, she would endure torture and slow death to make him happy, and this is bound to be better than that.

Meanwhile, she can't get enough of him, and she knows the feeling is mutual. She wishes she could swallow him whole, absorb him into her body and never let him go. He's hurting her a little bit now, scraping his fangs against her skin as he nibbles a fiery path down her neck to her breasts, and she just winds her fists into his flowing hair, urging him to do it harder. He's right there with her, suckling her nipples while his hands flow down between her legs, one above her body and one beneath. Briefly he squeezes her buttocks, kneading the hot flesh before he brings the two hands together, one hovering over her swollen mound while the other explores the entrance beneath. She gasps, and he looks up long enough to smile into her eyes as he sinks one, then two and three fingers into her velvet heat, knuckle first so they won't slice into her, while his other hand teases her sensitive core. Time telescopes, tremors of pleasure building and releasing, until she begs, "Please, yes, _now_!" as her body tenses, contracts, and then breaks against him like ocean waves smashing against the rocks, pounding and dissolving at the same time.

Hearing her scream—_making_ her scream—affects Inuyasha more than he would have believed possible. She is his now, his woman, his bitch, and he cannot wait to claim her completely. As she strains against him, he licks the warm pulse at the junction of her neck and shoulder, totally focused on the pulsing desire in her blood. Soon his blood-lust aligns with hers, raging through his body and into his manhood as red slashes waver across his face.

Gently he spreads her legs, bending her knees and bringing them up to rest against his chest. He's working purely on instinct; he feels a deep urge to take her from behind, but wants even more to see her lovely face as he slides into her for the first time. "Kagome?" he says softly, growling her name from deep in his throat. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

To his surprise, she giggles. He follows her glance down the length of their slick, sweaty bodies; she is under him, open to him, with the scent of her arousal overwhelming the flowers crushed against her back. "Inuyasha, exactly what do I have to do to convince you I want you? Do I need to beg?"

He laughs. "Oi, wench! Just checking. But now that you mention it, I like the sound of that."

"That?" She furrows her brow.

"Begging." He lifts himself slightly away from her, smirking at the way she arches her back to reach him. "Let's hear it."

"As if—ohh." She stops talking as he grinds his erection against her pelvis, teasing her sensitive nub with the tip. Not breaking eye contact, he flicks a claw across each of her nipples in turn until she gasps, "You…impossible…prick."

"Not impossible. _Very_ possible," he whispers, pushing just a little further in. She's trying to trap him, but he slides to one side before she can draw him past the point of no return. He nuzzles her ear, then breathes the words so low she can barely hear them. "Now, koibito. Beg."

She resists for about ten seconds before folding like a house of cards. "Inuyasha," she moans, moving her hips in slow, sensuous circles that almost drive him over the edge, "Take me. Fill me. Make me yours."

"You _are _mine. Now and always," he growls in that same intense voice, and she knows it's as final as any blood pact. Rubbing himself over her slick entrance, he lets her set the pace as he slides gently inside. The pain is worse than she'd imagined, and the obstruction, when they reach it, feels more solid. "Relax," he whispers. She breathes deeply, slowly, and he matches her breath for breath, each inhalation bringing him a little deeper.

They speak at the same moment: He says "Tell me when" while she whispers "Now." He doesn't have to be asked twice, and slams through her barrier in one savage thrust. She winces and tears spring to her eyes, but he kisses them away. And then they're moving together, and the pain coalesces with a pleasure more profound than any she's experienced.

The urge to pound into her with all his strength is maddening, but Inuyasha sees fear in her eyes and controls it while she stretches to accommodate him. After a few, gentle thrusts, he feels her legs sliding down from his chest to wrap around his waist. He pauses to wait for her next move, and she looks up at him with a smile so dazzling, he nearly loses his balance again.

"I love—" he starts to say, but she puts a hand over his mouth.

"I know," she says. There will be time for that, all the time in the world, but what she wants right now is pleasure. She squeezes her legs more tightly, running her hands along the length of his back until they come to rest on his butt. "So, great powerful dog demon, is this all you've got?"

"Are you—wench!" He bares his fangs as she pinches him, hard, and slams into her for the first time with his full strength.

Her head rolls back, eyes widening, as she moans, "Ahh, better…."

_Is she teasing me? Game time's over, you bitch!_ He pulls out, savoring her look of sudden loss, before flipping her over onto all fours. "If you're going to mess with dog demons," he growls, "You deserve what you get." She's not frightened; in fact, she looks back at him over her shoulder, never losing eye contact, and deliberately spreads herself wider. The pain is a fading memory, and she wants—needs—to take all of him as far inside her as he'll go.

The sight of her submitting to him completely destroys his self-control, and he rams into her as fast and hard as he can, savoring the sensation of tight heat giving way before him. He's arched over her back, biting her shoulder as his hands move around to pull at her nipples. He pinches, none too gently, and she screams his name as she bucks against his slamming hips, feeling the coiling heat in her pelvis expand and explode. As she finishes, he grips her hips in both hands and finds his own release, pushing so deeply inside her that the boundaries between them waver and dissolve.

And then he slumps over her as she collapses onto the grass, and there's silence except for panting, gasping breath and the beating of their hearts. He waits until their heartbeats begin to slow before gently rolling her onto her side and wrapping his arms around her from behind. He is still lodged deeply inside her, and she squeezes her pelvic muscles to keep him there as long as possible. If she had her way, she'd never let him go.

When she speaks, her voice is calm and almost—spiritual. "That was incredible. Inuyasha, I love—"

Quickly he covers her mouth with his hand. "I know."

-End-


End file.
